When in Rome...

When in Rome (or at least, when in her airport), just do what the Romans do (and try not to look too lost or awe-struck like the wide-eyed American puppy you are… J).  Just keep following the signs (with those familiar English translations underneath—thank goodness!).  Have your passport ready and your flight number memorized.  

And take it all in.

Oh, and don’t forget to keep checking the board for the gate from which your plane will depart.  They might change it on you—and then you’ll have to venture back into the mire of terminals and gates and croissant-sellers and duty-free shops from whence you barely (I mean skillfully and like a pro....) navigated before.

As I write this, I am sitting with my seatbelt buckled (though it doesn’t need to be),  on the plane that will take me to the place I will call home for the next 10 and a half months, the place that will teach me lessons I can’t even begin to fathom yet, the place my footsteps are leading me, the place where my adventure awaits (though I’m getting a small glimpse of it on this bout of plane rides and security screenings and airport scramblings).  

My final connecting flight from Rome to Athens is delayed for some reason I couldn’t quite fully grasp as the captain repeated in English following the initial burst of Italian to explain.  It is a strange and humbling experience to be surrounded thusly by so many different tongues—to try to tune your ear to a tone or phrase familiar and finding none, giving up listening—to struggle still even when the words are spoken in the language you know, but in an accent altogether different.  And this is only a sampling of what is to come, and only a small fraction of what some hear everyday.

For now, I write and I think.  And I listen in wonder.  And I wonder if this must be what students learning English must feel, at least on some smaller part.  And I want to take this continued experience--this opportunity to listen to words I don’t know, to be the fish swimming upstream in the pool of strange and beautiful words, to better inform my instruction of English to my students—to better connect with and help my students.

Another announcement—but I have a few seconds before I need to tune my ear J

We’ve taken flight now, and every moment takes me closer to Greece.  I look out the window and see the rugged mountains donning their dark hues—see the windows sitting atop them as gods and goddesses gracing their thrones.  I listen to the hum of the airplane, the whirring of the engine, the faint conversation happening a few rows up, and a couple rows back.  Look out into the blurred and awesome blue, shades of sky that could be shades of sea.

Something stirs in my stomach—excitement, anxiousness, that in-flight snack, perhaps J .  What possibilities await—as endless as the sky appears now.  My heart is full—of the bolstering words of love, support, confidence, and faith I read in the airport—words that brought a smile to my face and a reassuring peace to my journey.   

The journey has already begun, but when this plane lands….

So, when in Rome: enjoy the layover, look back where you’ve come, look forward where you’re going, and seek meaning in each moment.  Don’t close your eyes, or your ears, or your heart---there’s so much you might miss………